


another wave from you

by orphan_account



Category: VIXX
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, M/M, Makeup
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-13
Updated: 2015-07-13
Packaged: 2018-04-09 04:29:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4333928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"six hours really wasn't a lot of time when it was the last time."</p>
            </blockquote>





	another wave from you

Coming home in a downpour of rain, small floods by the sidewalk's end; and the sky pitted black like a drapery behind the scenic pillars of the city. Taekwoon, who walked clandestinely through the crowd: hood pulled over his damp hair, shoulders squared and his head down, was no more aware of the water soaking through his jacket than he was of how cold his hands were. He had other thoughts to care about: was Hongbin home, would he come tonight; and if he did: how long would he stay?  
  
He lived in a large building, thirteen floors with six flats per level; a cheap place in a cheap part of town, aligned by unnecessarily wide windows that were perfectly transparent from the street below. Though he believed very few people ever looked up, probably in fear of what they would see; he could understand their unease; he never looked either.  
  
Too many people by the lift, and so he took the stairs; an easy walk from the lobby to the third floor, but he lingered on the second landing, and inspected the narrow hall; eyes stopped on the door of B5. He thought of knocking, but only for a moment; he had never knocked before. It wasn't until he reached his own door that Taekwoon felt a small pang of regret—he should have knocked, should have done something differently for a change. It felt wrong to flow through his usual motions and act like nothing was amiss; but Hongbin had said not to make it a Big Deal; and so he wouldn't. Not outright, anyway.  
  
Lace up boots and a pair of black slacks, he stripped himself of both; dropping the boots loudly in the doorway, and walking out of his pants somewhere in the kitchen. He'd grab them after coffee, once the machine was brewing and their two mugs were lined on the counter; one purple, one blue. Tomorrow he'd only have to use one. He didn't like to think about it; but in a way it was sort of funny: there had been a time when he hadn't liked to think of Hongbin, either. He was afraid that feeling would return, and hoped that maybe it wouldn't.  
  
Into the living room—tall windows, open floor space covered in cherry hardwood, a couch bed in the corner—feeling the expanse of the room so vast and empty, lonely in a way that it hadn't felt before, and a loneliness in himself that he hated to acknowledge; and so didn't. He took a pair of fresh pants from his bedroom cupboard before pulling back the heavy black curtains that covered his windows; glass so large and wide, dark enough to show a faint reflection of his own weary face; but mostly clamored with the neon of the city: lit train tracks gleaming dully in the east, headlights from cabs and buses; faint roar of a 757 somewhere overhead; but Taekwoon, with his forehead to the glass, hearing only the omnipresent patter of rain on the window.  
  
Only a moment longer of this before the coffee timer beeped, and he: onto the living room floor, curled onto his side with his left cheek to the cold hardwood. Below him: muffled melody of the radio, the hum of a refrigerator. He let his eyes shut and imagined Hongbin on his couch with his knees pulled up, waiting, waiting...  
  
Taekwoon was glad he was home at all.  
  
Balled fist and bony knuckles, he tapped twice on the floor, hard and loud, and heard the radio turn off; and though he knew Hongbin was on his way up, he didn't bother to leave the floor. So: onto his back with his eyes shut; and this is how he was when he heard the front door open, a tiny shuffle of feet as Hongbin tiptoed to him; such a quiet person, almost as quiet at Taekwoon. And he laid his head on Taekwoon's shoulder with his arm about his waist, feeling limp and boneless as if he were trying to melt against him. Maybe he was.  
  
'Will we sleep tonight?' Taekwoon asked softly.  
  
'I want to stay up.'  
  
'All night?'  
  
Hongbin slipped a hand into Taekwoon's hair, pulled him closer and onto his side; there, lying face to face with their legs entwined: 'all night,' he whispered against Taekwoon's mouth.  
  
  
  
  
Hongbin poured their coffee; too much milk and not enough sugar, but nothing Taekwoon would complain about. The heat had been drowned by the milk, but the mug was still hot between his hands, coffee lukewarm. He sipped slowly.  
  
With his back kissing the window and Hongbin across him, sat with his legs beneath himself, Taekwoon asked what he had been too afraid to ask before: 'What time does your plane leave tomorrow?'  
  
Hongbin fiddled with his Nikon camera. He had been looking through the viewfinder only a moment ago, but now stared down at it with growing discomfort. He licked across his bottom lip, considered Taekwoon with apologetic eyes. 'Early,' he muttered. 'I'll have to leave here by five.'  
  
'In the...'  
  
'Morning. Yeah.'  
  
Involuntary whine slipping from his parted mouth, Taekwoon felt his face grow hot; and ignored it. '..but,' and he took out his phone, swallowed hard at the time displayed: 23:03.  _6 hours_.  
  
'I would have told you sooner, hyung, but..' Hongbin crawled over on his knees and cupped the side of Taekwoon's neck; kissing the corner of his mouth, 'you didn't want me to.'  
  
The cold tip of Hongbin's nose nestled into Taekwoon's cheek as he leaned heavily against the window; thankful for, but not really thinking about, how sturdy the glass was. He rest his hands on the small of Hongbin's back, feeling as if he were drowning beneath the storm of insecurity and panic. Six hours really wasn't a lot of time when it was the last time.  
  
'I'm sorry,' Hongbin mumbled; and Taekwoon took his face between his hands, and then his bottom lip between his teeth.  
  
He whispered, 'It's not your fault,' into Hongbin's mouth, licking timidly past his lips, arms winding tightly around his middle as Hongbin crawled into his lap.  
  
And with a leg on either side of Taekwoon's hips; his voice trembling as well as the rest of him, Hongbin asked: 'Do you wanna play, hyung?'  
  
  
  
  
It wasn't really a game, but they treated it as one; and sometimes—like tonight—it felt more like a dance. Hongbin, in the bathroom, in the medicine cabinet, looking for what he needed; and Taekwoon: in the living room with his shirt thrown somewhere. He'd sometimes sit cross legged, other times with his legs underneath him; but tonight he sat with them outstretched; hands clasped and limp in his lap as he listened to Hongbin make a mess in his bathroom.  
  
'I can't find the.., never mind!' followed by a giggle. 'You bought new colors. Which should I pick?'  
  
Taekwoon didn't give an answer. He knew Hongbin would decide on his own. He would normally wait until Hongbin joined him back in the living room, and allow him to choose which music to play; but tonight, too anxious to sit still for long, Taekwoon went to the radio; and slipped in the mix tape Hongbin left behind almost three months ago.  
  
 _California Dreaming_  was the first track.  
  
There was a subtle spring in his step when he came back to the room some moments later, three lipstick tubes cradled between two hands like something precious; far more than he ever returned with before.  
  
'It's kind of sad, like,' Hongbin sat in Taekwoon's lap, 'you bought new colors and I won't be able to use them all.'  
  
'Why can't you?'  
  
'It'd be burdensome to stop just to pick another color.' His mouth: pinched and crooked, dimple dug into only one cheek; Hongbin glanced up through the hair in his eyes, a fringe dyed black and kept too long. Taekwoon swept it aside.  
  
'Can we do it differently?' Hongbin asked. 'I know I said I wanted tonight to be the same, but...' here, a sigh so heavy and shaken Taekwoon was sure it was to stave off any threatening tears. 'I changed my mind,' and before he got an answer, Hongbin had his shirt pulled up and off; revealing small, defined shoulders; and firm hips that looked fragile.  
  
Taekwoon breathed deeply through his nose as he laid both hands flat on either of Hongbin's hips; and with his right cheek pressed to the bare expanse of his chest, he asked: 'What will be different this time?'  
  
'...can I put some on you?'  
  
He tensed, but it was only for a second; then nodding, and keeping his mouth shut because a small whimper had worked its way up his throat. Excitement in his stomach, sweat on his palms; he let Hongbin choose the color, and was pleased when it was a pale pink tint.  
  
To say Taekwoon hadn't tried each color on himself already would be a lie, but he wasn't about to tell Hongbin that.  
  
He sat with his lips gently pouted, eyes shut; trying hard not to shake, but Hongbin, who had his right hand on the side of Taekwoon's neck, was shaking liberally. He had put lipstick on himself hundreds of times, all of which right in front of Taekwoon, but this was the first time putting it on anyone else.  
  
Hongbin made a bit of a mess, but cleaned up well; it didn't matter, though. It'd all be messed up in the end, anyway.  
  
'You look so..' he touched one slightly shaking finger to Taekwoon's lower lip. 'Do you feel nice?'  
  
Taekwoon answered with a soft spoken, 'yeah,' and was immediately seized by the back of his hair, head cocked back as Hongbin pressed their mouths fully together; kiss so firm and only hardening as Taekwoon tried to kiss back, mouth trembling under the pressure of Hongbin's lips.  
  
Hongbin rolled his hips, and though there was no way he could feel anything through the thickness of his jeans, still moaned into Taekwoon's opened mouth as if the motion alone was enough to get him hard. Maybe it was.  
  
'I don't think the color will show,' he said, mouth motionlessly pressed to Taekwoon's own. 'It's too light, but..' and he reached for the tube again, reapplied what he had messed up. 'It's still pretty.'  
  
'Your turn.'  
  
'Already?'  
  
Taekwoon already had the lipstick uncapped, a deep wine that was his favorite. Hongbin moved quickly from his lap and onto the floor, leaned back with his hands behind him; legs spread. Taekwoon shifted between his thighs, cupped one side of his face; and tried to focus on more than Hongbin's soft panting. His lips were parted, kiss swollen with the faintest traces of pink on them.  
  
Hongbin, ever compliant when getting his make up done, was still tonight as he always was; but once Taekwoon was finished, ready to close the lipstick and put it away, Hongbin took his wrist in a tight hold; and sucked his index finger into his mouth. Eyes fixed on Taekwoon, gaze unwavering as he first took his finger in to the third knuckle; then slowly pulled it out.  
  
'Jesus, Hongbin,' and hanging his head, completely defeated.  
  
'Ready?'  
  
Though he really wasn't, it didn't stop Taekwoon from lying on his back with his arm over his eyes; back subtly arching as Hongbin crawled on top of him; sat heavily on Taekwoon's hips as he leaned in, and pressed hard kisses to any part of his bare chest he wished to.  
  
It was the fun part; the whole point of it all: to paint Hongbin's mouth and let him leave his colored trail all over Taekwoon's body; but tonight it was torture. A kiss on his neck, one on his shoulder; two on his chest and one low on his hip. He almost jolted when Hongbin said softly against his ear,  _do you want me to suck you off_?  
  
He groaned into the crook of his elbow, thrust up slowly against Hongbin's hand that was already down the front of his pants. 'No,' Taekwoon said with a whimper attached; but how badly he wanted to say yes.  
  
 _Save it for last_ , he thought; and it only made him sad.  
  
  
  
  
'This one's, like, perfect,' Hongbin said later, examining the lip prints left on Taekwoon's body. He was pointing to his shoulder, persistently tapping the side of Taekwoon's face. 'Look at it, hyung.'  
  
So he did; and found Hongbin was right. There, a perfect impression of his mouth without the slightest smudge in the lipstick.  
  
Hongbin giggled, 'You should get it tattooed,' and placed another wet kiss to Taekwoon's shoulder; this one without color. 'That way you can't forget,' but his face began to crumble as he understood what was said. He tried to hold onto his smile, but it faltered as his chin started to quiver.  
  
'...Bin-ah.'  
  
'I don't wanna go anymore.'  
  
Guilt like a flower blossoming inside him had Taekwoon grabbing the nape of Hongbin's neck, pulling him into the crook of his own. He whispered: 'You can't say that.'  
  
'I shouldn't have bought the flat,' Hongbin mumbled hoarsely.  
  
'You'll be gone two years.. it isn't like you can live out of a hotel.' When Hongbin said nothing to this, Taekwoon added: 'Maybe you'll come back.'  
  
'Maybe you won't be here.'  
  
'Maybe not,' and though Hongbin tensed against him, he didn't have it in him to say that it was more likely Hongbin would find someone new in London than for Taekwoon to move somewhere else.  
  
  
  
  
'Stop it,' Taekwoon muttered as Hongbin lifted his camera up to his face. He could see himself reflected in the lens. 'I said stop.'  
  
'You can't be mean,' Hongbin said with a smirk, lowering the camera only enough to peer over it. 'I have to take all the photos I can,' and though his tone was almost bitter, Taekwoon let it be. 'Maybe I can use it for my portfolio,' here: a giggle as if he knew how ridiculous that was. But a moment later and he had his lens aimed out the window, shutter clicking as he took photos of the passersby.  
  
Taekwoon lit a cigarette, and pretended to not notice when Hongbin's camera tipped back toward him; taking photos he probably thought were well hidden.  
  
  
  
  
Hongbin straddled the couch bed's arm rest, his camera left aside somewhere on the floor. Taekwoon, with his legs crossed and a third cigarette hanging from his mouth, had his head tipped back; eyes shut. He felt the dip in the couch as Hongbin crawled closer, then the whisper of fingers walking up the side of his neck; gentle kiss on his temple, another on his jaw.  
  
'Are you tired?' he asked against the shell of Taekwoon's ear.  
  
'A little, but I'll manage.'  
  
'Don't fall asleep.' He pushed a hand up the front of Taekwoon's shirt; cold fingers, and the gentle scrape of blunt nails. 'I won't wake you if you do.'  
  
Taekwoon plucked the cigarette from his mouth, one eyebrow arched; scowling. 'Why not?' but Hongbin was smiling his teasing grin; the one that told Taekwoon  _just because_. Cigarette crushed in the ashtray, still glaring as he wrapped his arms around Hongbin's middle; Taekwoon yanked him into his lap only to shove him flat on his back a second later; legs spread with Taekwoon between them.  
  
'Gonna touch me now?' Hongbin asked, smiling. He tipped his head back, exposed column of his neck that Taekwoon mouthed at; left faint bruises against. With his legs around Taekwoon's hips; his hands up the back of his shirt; Hongbin arched up against him, soft whimpers falling from his mouth.  
  
'Can it be different this time?' he whispered into Taekwoon's mouth. 'Softer?'  
  
So: to the bedroom to grab his blankets, his pillows; lying them on the living room floor in a makeshift bed. Taekwoon stripped his shirt; and helped Hongbin out of his jeans. And there, on the floor, with one arm around the small of Hongbin's back; face pressed to his stomach, Taekwoon pushed his hand between Hongbin's legs; slipped his fingers into him, and heard him gasp softy.  
  
Taekwoon kept his hands light, gentle; delicate kisses along Hongbin's collarbones. It didn't matter that Hongbin's hands were rough in his hair, that he bit at Taekwoon's mouth; licking past his teeth and grinding hard against him; because he wanted it soft, and Taekwoon would only give him that.  
  
This, too, was like a dance.  
  
Hongbin: flat on the floor with one hand on Taekwoon's back, the other entwined with Taekwoon's own; neck arched, head pushed back against the pillows; he moaned Taekwoon's name as his voice trembled; hips rolling up to meet each thrust.  
  
And though this was much calmer than they'd ever been, when Hongbin came, he came with a shout; full body spasm as his thighs started to shake, arms wound so tightly about Taekwoon's neck it was difficult to breathe.  
  
It was hard to not notice the pull in his chest when Hongbin clung to him, as if it was impossible to be close enough; but he understood. So when Hongbin's arms began to shake with how tightly he was holding on, Taekwoon shifted onto his side so Hongbin could work a leg around him too; face pressed into Taekwoon's neck, sweaty and messy and trembling all over.  
  
'Don't fall asleep,' Taekwoon jeered lightly; and some minutes later left to get a washcloth.  
  
  
  
  
Back on the couch bed with their boxers on, lying face to face with their chests together; it was a wonder that they could both fit comfortably.  
  
Hongbin was brushing the pad of his thumb over Taekwoon's lower lip, giggling softly when Taekwoon's mouth opened, threatening to bite him; then to his cheeks as he traced the sharp edges of Taekwoon's cheekbones, brushing his fingertips along his lashes.  
  
'You're so handsome,' Taekwoon said quietly.  
  
Hongbin's hand stilled. He smiled.  
  
 _Don't go_ , Taekwoon wanted to say,  _I'll miss you too much_ ; but he couldn't do that to Hongbin, and so let the words sit in his mouth like a bad taste, like copper; as if he'd swallowed a handful of coins and was having trouble spitting them back up. He pressed his fingers into the dip of Hongbin's hip, and instead said: 'When I'm with you, I feel good about myself.'  
  
Hongbin's mouth parted, his eyes grew glossy.  
  
Taekwoon tried to smile. It was hard. Even harder still when Hongbin wriggled closer, though there wasn't much room between them anyway, and grabbed the front of Taekwoon's shirt in his fists. He kissed his mouth, and whispered, 'You've always made me happy, hyung.'  
  
Taekwoon bit the inside of his cheek, hoping the tickle in his throat would soon go away.  
  
  
  
  
He didn't mean to fall asleep, but when he did; it was with his chin resting on Hongbin's head, hand in the back of his hair; absently twirling it between his fingers.  
  
  
  
  
Taekwoon woke with a start so tense his neck cramped; a pain that sprung to the crown of his head; brought on an intense ache in his temples.  
  
'Hongbin—' but he was there, slipping into his jeans by the mess of blankets on the floor. 'How long have I been sleeping?' it felt late; he felt stiff; panic was choking him.  
  
'About an hour,' Hongbin said. 'I was kind of hoping you'd sleep right through,' and here, a sad smile. He pulled on his shirt.  
  
'Why would you--'  
  
'I have to go now.'  
  
Taekwoon's stomach dropped. He was thankful he wasn't standing, he may have fallen over; but now he simply felt sick, as if he was going to vomit on his own feet; so he stuck his head between his knees, sighed deeply. It didn't help.  
  
Hongbin touched his shoulder. 'You have to say goodbye, hyung.'  
  
'I don't..' and lifting his head only to get a mouthful of Hongbin, hands in his hair, tongue in his mouth; he was surprisingly calm in Taekwoon's arms for a boy who was kissing like his life depended on it.  
  
'Are you gonna miss me?' Hongbin asked.  
  
'No,' Taekwoon said.  
  
'Good. I won't miss you either,' accompanied with a smile, it was almost believable. But there were tears in his eyes that gave it away.  
  
'I have a plane to catch,' Hongbin sighed out; stretching his shoulders, ruffling the top of Taekwoon's hair; anything to make it all seem normal; anything to make it not a Big Deal. 'I'll see you around,' and leaving one last kiss on the bridge of Taekwoon's nose, Hongbin left with surprising speed; nearly running from the apartment; the front door not even closing behind him.  
  
Taekwoon sat on the couch for what felt like a long time, staring at his hands; counting the seconds. It was 4:56. Four minutes.  
  
So he went and shut the front door, and flipped back on the radio. Hongbin's mix still played;  _California Dreaming_  was back on.  
  
Then onto the floor with his eyes wet and his head throbbing, lying with his cheek to the cold boards and his trembling hands flat on the floor. He heard the faint murmur of voices in the hall; car horns in the streets outside; a train whistle in the distance. But with his ear pressed to the floor; he heard below: Hongbin's door latch shut for the last time.  
  
He rolled onto his back; and closed his eyes.


End file.
